


Time After Time

by briannegrace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briannegrace/pseuds/briannegrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray,<br/>Watching through windows, you're wondering if I'm OK.<br/>And you say, "Go slow,"<br/>I fall behind.<br/>The drum beats out of time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time After Time

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by PuzzledHats who stole it off the Brienne/Jaimie fandom: Put your iPod on shuffle and write a fic based on the first song that comes up.
> 
> I didn't know about the challenge at the time that I started writing this a few weeks ago, but it basically happened just that way: "Time After Time" (the cover version by Quietdrive) came on my iPod during my commute home and I got inspired to write about my OTP. I tried to time Arya's thoughts/actions to the song; it's not perfect, but if you listen to that version of the song, it'll sort of make sense.
> 
> Another thing, the work is in the middle of things and is part of a longer story I'm working on. But I'll eventually post the whole story. (And shout out to jeeno2, who published Hands in pieces, which kinda gives me the courage to do post this piece first before the finished product). 
> 
> Also, I am a long time reader of Gendrya fic, first time poster, so please, be gentle :)

After the scene by the jukebox, Arya avoided Gendry entirely, which was next to impossible given the occasion and their shared group of friends. So she stuck close to her older brothers and cousin or Ned at all times. She didn’t even particularly like Ned all that much, but she knew Gendry wouldn’t come near her as long as he was nearby. But every time she found herself searching the crowd, she found him, found his electric blue eyes and no matter what, they were locked on her.

The band was in the middle of its second set and she stood near one of the speakers. The crowd was thick, drunk and everyone was dancing and singing along to the range of cover songs the band had selected. Ned kept trying to get her to dance, but she waved him off, preferring to lean against the brick wall, sipping her beer and listening to the music.

“We’re going to take things a little bit more romantical now,” the lead singer drawled. “Hope you enjoy.”

Just great, she thought.

_**Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you…”** _

Arya looked up and again, she found Gendry across the throng of people surrounding the band. He was looking directly at her, his blue eyes pleading with her to talk to him, to at least look at him longer than two seconds. She quickly turned away, looked at the floor then back at the band, trying to concentrate on what was in front of her and not Gendry Waters and his blue eyes across the room.

_**You say go slow, I fall behind. The second hand unwinds…”** _

Get yourself together Arya Lyanna Stark, she scolded herself while taking a healthy sip of beer. This is Gendry Waters. The same Gendry Water whose nose you bloodied the first day you met him when you were 10. The same Gendry Waters who you’ve watched take home a virtual Hit Parade of girls from the bar for years. The same Gendry Waters who is best friends with Jon and Robb and you – and nothing more. She took another sip.

_**Sometimes you picture me, I’m walking too far ahead…”** _

Fuckin’ what the hell? This is _Gendry Waters_. The same Gendry Waters you’ve been friends with for nearly half your life.

And then whether it was the music or the beer, memories started to flash through Arya’s mind, memories of and with Gendry: how he was her date to senior prom, her go-to dance partner at weddings. The way their eyes would spark when they played against each other quarters, beer pong, anything competitive. How he’d always say the same thing: “Prepare to be crushed little Stark.” And how she’d shake her head and retort, “Not before you Waters.”

How they would play video games until the sun came up. How he’d grab her shoulders and cheer after every Rangers victory, the same thing he’d do during her brothers’ hockey playoffs when they watched from the bleachers. The easgygoing banter that mixed insults and affection. The texts and conversations about everything and nothing – movies, comic books, girls, boys, the banality of the everyday.

The same Gendry Waters who would grab her hand when they were kids so she could keep up with the rest of the boys when they were running away from whatever disaster they caused. Who she’d spend nights watching terrible horror movies with, who would tilt his head to the side and make some stupid weird observation about the color of the fake blood as they passed a big bowl of popcorn back and forth. 

The same Gendry Waters who would envelop her in a bear hug and she’d all but disappear, who would make her laugh at the most inopportune moments and who proclaimed one drunken night that she was the perfect height for an armrest before plopping his arm right on top of her head.

Arya realized she was smiling to herself thinking about their history. The way his black hair flopped across his forehead when it grew too long. And the patented Gendry Waters with wide-eyed stare with sapphire eyes, an expression pleading and waiting for her to respond, which was usually with an eye roll or a snark.

The same wide-eyed expression he’d been giving her all night. He was still waiting for her to respond. 

_**After my picture fades and darkness has turned to grey…”** _

And then suddenly the floodgates Arya was unaware existed spilled over and broke, as for the first time everything and nothing made sense. How they were always a pair – would always be a pair -- that there really was no one else. She didn’t know how she could have missed it, repressed it, pushed it down and away. Why did it take her so long to realize?

_**And you say go slow, I fall behind. The drum beats out of time…”** _

She looked up again and he was still looking right at her from across the room. This time she didn’t look away after two seconds. She felt her grey eyes start to widen, start to water, and it was as if something broke in the air between them. He could sense it, too, that something changed, because now he was trying to make his way through the crowd, to her.

The band kicked in for the crescendo of the final choruses.

And Arya Lyanna Stark did the only thing that made sense: she ran. 

_**If you’re lost, you can look and you can find me, time after time…”** _

Arya turned and pushed and shoved people jumping and singing along out of the way. She dropped her beer along the way, it splashing up against her bare legs, but she didn’t care. She need to get out of there. She needed to breathe. It was way too much and she still couldn’t figure it all out. Her head was swimming, and not from the alcohol, as she continued to dart in and out of the crowd towards the door.

“ARYA!” he shouted after her. “ARYA!”

She heard him calling her name, but she kept going, kept pushing, past friends, her brothers and finally bursting through the bar’s entrance and out into the open. She inhaled deeply and crouched in the shadows near the curb, hugging her arms around her knees, face down, long brown hair spilling across her shoulders as the song’s final notes echoed in the night air.


End file.
